Release Me
by LisaMR
Summary: GnS We have met the enemy and it is us. Walt Kelly


**Release Me**

**Title: **Release Me

**Author: **Desirae

**Rating: **R

**Summary: **"We have met the enemy and it is us." - Walt Kelly

**Disclaimer: **The CSI characters do not belong to me. Please don't sue me. Any names or situations are completely fictional and mean no harm. Just ideas floating around in my head that bring a lack of sleep.

**Authors Notes: **This story deals with a lot of mature subject matter. If you are younger then 18, I don't recommend this story. So, if you are please stop now as this is strictly mature content. Thanks Sara, for letting me use your idea. Hope in the end you are glad you let me write it!

I feel the sharp pain slice through my nerves and wince quietly. The crimson blood licks my arm before it falls into the pearl-colored sink. I close my eyes and feel the pain unbind. It feels so good to release it. To have it all wash away, for just a moment. A moment of peace. The memories flash before my eyes, causing bile to rise up my gurge, before I force it down again. Pam Adler, Kaye Shelton, Eileen Snow... too many to name and now, Tanis Wigner, all haunt my thoughts. Their pale faces blankly stare at me, causing me to scream for them to be alive again. To breathe one last breath. To feel a loving touch and to say last words to their loved ones.

I hang my head. No matter how many abusive husbands, rapists and serial killers we put away, there will always be more coming out. Willing to kill and take away a woman's integrity just for control. To dominate a person in such a way that it breaks them in every possible way; spiritually, physically, verbally and mentally. To laugh at their lifeless body and to feel a surge of empowerment.

I clench my jaw

I take my fist and slam it onto the cold marble counter. I instantly feel my bones crunch together from the force. I let out a yelp. "SHIT!" Shifting my gaze, I slowly look at my arm again. The trail of blood is dry.

Reaching into the cabinet, I pull out the hydrogen peroxide. I place a cotton swab over the neck of the bottle and tip it upside down. Flipping the bottle back over, I put it on the counter and gently place the moist swab on my cut, slowing dabbing the cool liquid on it. My eyes squint as the pleasurable stinging begins to set it.

My eyes snap open as my cell phone rings. I place the swab down and reach for my cell. "Sidle."

"It's Grissom."

"Oh... hey." I try to sound happy. An attempt to mask the pain. "What's up?"

"You sound distracted."

"Yeah... I was ah... just reading."

"I got a lead on the Tanis Wigner case. Think you can meet me in the lab. I know it's..."

"Be there in 30." I hit the end button and place it on the counter. I've got 30 minutes to gain control back. Grissom can't know. He can never know.

I pull my black Tahoe into my stall. My hand moves to the gauze under my jean jacket. Grabbing my keys, I get out and head straight towards the lab, only stopping to flash my ID at Security.

Weakly, I smile at Greg as I pass the lab and knock on Grissom's door. I hear him mumble something and open the door. I see him sitting behind his desk with a pile of papers strewn across the top. He looks up and pulls his glasses off in the same manner as he always has. Smiling, I lean against the wall. "What came in?"

"Greg ran the epithelia's you found. He has a match."

My body temperature shoots up as he speaks the words. I feel a little shaky and quickly sit down before I collapse. "The boyfriend?"

He shakes his head and I look at him in confusion. "No. Russell Smelder."

I don't let him finish his thought. "Her best friend." I shake my head. I should've known from the beginning. He fits the profile perfectly. I can feel Grissom's gaze on me. I move my eyes towards him and then quickly to the moving balls on his desk. Clink... clink... clink... clink. Constantly repeating the movements. Knocking one ball away from the group of three. Only to be knocked out from the other ball. Repeating, over and over again.

"Sara. We couldn't have known. Russell had a solid alibi. The tape proved it."

"We should've checked the tape, it was obviously a fake! He could've gotten away!" I feel the room closing in on me. Standing, I turn and quickly leave. I can hear Grissom calling my name, but I pick up my pace. He can't see me like this. I need to get control of myself.

Opening the door, the evening air smacks my tear-tained cheeks. I furiously wipe my face and take a deep breath. The air feels good on my hot body, bringing a sense of freedom. Something I've been reaching for and trying to obtain again.

I know it's him without even turning around. It's a sixth sense with us.

"I didn't mean to snap. Just hate the thought of one of them slipping away. Simply because we didn't check everything. I can't stand that punk boyfriend, but I want the real killer to be brought to justice." I turn to look him in the eyes. "I'm fine. Really. Brass ready?"

He nods his head and I follow him, as we walk back into the lab.

Russell's apartment isn't what you would expect from a man who just killed his best friend. Although what it should look like I have no idea, just - not this. Pictures of Tanis and himself still were placed around his house, on the walls and shelves. Among them were pictures of people who I can only guess were family members and other friends. When I went to his apartment, before it all looked so normal. Now all the pictures screamed of an obsession. An obsession with his best friend. An obsession so strong, he killed in order to prevent her from ever leaving him. I'll never understand how they stay sane after murder.

Tanis's throat was sliced with a butcher knife. The same type of knife that was missing from Craig McLanis (her boyfriend's) drawer. Now that I look at it, the setup was perfect. Russell must've known we'd find it missing and that it would match up with Tanis's wounds. All the information hits me in a wave. Craig had said that he noticed the knife missing before, but we didn't believe him. Why would we. The weapon was from his place, and he was known to get a little rough with Tanis. I turn and bump into a cabinet. The pain shoots up in my arm and I try to brush it off. "Gris, I'm gonna go check upstairs."

I take a glimpse over the handrail. From the top view, his place is all in order. Another sign of wanting to always be in control.

Gently, I push open the door and walk into his room. It's dimly lit and I pull out my flashlight. Wandering through the room, everything seems to be in order, but looks are deceiving. I smirk. "Isn't that the truth."

I chew on my bottom lip. Russell was too controlled to leave the evidence in plain sight. But if he was sure that Craig would be charged, then, maybe he was waiting. Playing a little cat and mouse game. I walk around the room and stop in front of the closet. The smell of copper hits me - I smile.

Opening the closet door, the odor gets stronger. I reach out, but stop as I hear the floor creak. It isn't Gris. I slowly maneuver my body to face Russell.

"Russell, what are you doing? You scared me." He smiles and I swallow.

"Why are you snooping around?"

"It's not snooping if you have a warrant. Did you talk to Grissom on your way up?" I take a quick glance behind him to see if Gris is standing in the doorway. He isn't. Shit.

"I saw you come into my house. I wanted to know what you were up to. Now I can see." I follow his gaze to the black plastic bag in the back of the closest.

"Just doing my job, Russell. I want to bring peace to Tanis's family. You understand, don't you?"

"I understand that you're looking in the wrong place. Craig killed her!" I see his eyes flash and my temper rises. He has the same look that Tom Adler had when I called him on killing his wife. I rise to my full hight and face him. "Russell, you know what Grissom always tells me? That DNA is like a fingerprint. Each is different. No two are the same. DNA doesn't lie. And it'll say you killed Tanis." I flick my head to where the bag is. "I'm sure that bag of clothing will prove my theory." I tighten my fist and see the flames of anger rise in his eyes. I almost feel like cowering. But the images of Tanis stay imprinted in my mind and I stand firm. "Why'd you do it Russell?"

"Do what?"

"Kill her. Slice her throat! Did it... make you feel like you had control?" I watch his face tighten at my words and I smile. I keep hearing Gris's voice telling me to keep my emotions in check. But I've started and I can't stop. I won't stop. "She didn't want to be controlled Russell. She had enough of that from her boyfriend. You know Craig? The man that you've always wanted to be, because Tanis was with him?"

"BITCH! TANIS WOULD'VE LEARNED TO LOVE ME! But... but she wouldn't! Because of that jackass CRAIG! I HATED HIM! I HATED HIM FOR TOUCHING AND HURTING HER! I held her when she was CRYING! She came running to ME! But, after I held her, she ALWAYS WENT BACK TO HIM!"

"So you wanted REVENGE!" A shiny glint catches my eye and I look at his hand. He's holding a gun.

"She was going to pay. Pay for never letting me be the one! You've ruined everything! Everything I've planned - you ruined! And now you'll pay... just like Tanis."

"Grissom will hear you. You'll go to jail."

"I'm already there." I watch in horror as he holds up the gun to my heart.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you."

I look over Russell's shoulder and see Brass scowling at him. A sigh of relief hits my lungs as I look at him. I see Grissom standing beside him, gun aimed at Russell.

"Shoot me... I don't care. Tanis is gone. I killed her... but this bitch will be coming with me. I never liked being alone."

I feel my heart pounding and the barrel of the gun begins to heat up from touching my skin. I don't want to die. I can't die, not yet. Not until everything is finished, and it's not. I'm not finished! I shake my head and try to focus on the situation at hand. I feel his hand shaking, causing the gun to rub against my chest. I close my eyes.

"Put the gun down!"

Cold fingers wrap around my arm. His thumb presses against the open cut. I grit my teeth together to stop from crying out. My body is flung against his. My back pressed against his front. Sirens begin to go off as I realize that I'm his shield. They can't shoot him without going through me. Damn it!

My head snaps up as he grabs my chin. I look at Grissom's face. He is full of tension. I want to scream for him to just stop it all. Who cares if I live or die, as long as Tanis gets justice, that's all I want right now. How close have I come to almost killing myself? So close... maybe this is all just fate.

"Let her go. Killing her won't do any good."

"Yes it will! I don't want to be alone! I HATE BEING ALONE! Why can't anyone understand that!"

I think of all the pictures he has in his apartment. He was trying to fill the void. His arms relax for a moment. I raise my arm and slam it down, into his ribcage. The grip lets go. I take that moment and wiggle away, trying to make a run for it. I hear him swearing and then that noise.

I scream out as the bullet hits my shoulder. I keep hearing bullets as I look at Grissom. My legs give out, causing me to tumble to the floor. My motion reminds me of a rag doll. First contact I make is my sore shoulder. I close my eyes and flashes of light plague my vision. Noises penetrate. It's Grissom's voice. Opening my eyes, I look straight into his deep blue orbs. "I'm sorry..."

"Sara, you gotta hold on. Someone call an ambulance!" Weakly, I smile as I feel his hand in my hair. "You're gonna be fine. You just gotta hold on a little longer."

"I... I let my..." I hate not being able to speak. Coughing a little I close my eyes again. "Emotions take... take over. Sorry."

A beeping noise draws me out of my unconscious state. My head feels like a train is hitting it over and over again. Yet, while I'm trying to open my eyes, I know he's there. Attempting to take a deeper breath, I feel a sharp pain in my chest. I open my eyes slowly, the light hurts. "Gil?" Rustling happens and then I feel his warm hand over mine.

"You're awake."

Smiling, I nod my head slowly. For as long as I've known Gil, he's never understood the living. He could never relate to them. Never see what a person was going through. What they were screaming for at the top of their lungs. Or maybe, he just never cared. I take another sharp breath. I'd rather believe it's the first than the second. Thinking that he doesn't care brings on a drowning feeling over my heart. Shatters my dream into millions of pieces.

I always thought there was a possibility of more between us. So many signs pointing in that directions and me hoping that it wasn't all in my head. It couldn't have just been me. He reciprocated the feelings I felt. When I first came to Las Vegas, his hand had brushed against my cheek and I've never forgotten it. His constant worry about putting me in harms way. He hated when I came up with the idea of being bait to catch a killer. I look into his blue eyes and smile again. Then there was the plant that he sent me. I close my eyes again, knowing that he's probably trying to read my mind. His brows, scrunched slightly together and his head tilted a little.

"You should get some rest."

I nod my head. The inward struggle begins. I want him to ask me if I'm okay. I want him to take care of me, to ask a hundred different questions that will cause my head to spin. But I don't want the truth revealed, so I try to fall asleep. Sleeping makes the problems disappear for a couple of hours.

"How's she doing?"

Nick. I open my eyes and the fluorescent lights cause me to squint again. My vision slowly comes into focus and I watch him talk to Grissom at the doorway. His Texas accent brings a smile to my lips. He's been my best friend here in Las Vegas. "Hey Cowboy."

His head snaps back and he flashes the charm. "Even after you get shot, you still flirt with me." He shakes his head at Grissom. "Never could resist my charm." I give him a toothy grin and he winks at me. Glancing behind him, I catch a glimpse of Grissom and, if I didn't know better, I'd say he was jealous.

"You wish."

"I'm glad you're okay. I... I wouldn't be able to handle losing you."

Sighing, I shake my head. Never been good at the emotional moments. "Nicky, you'd find someone to take my place. And you'd flirt with her until she'd shoot you down. You've always liked a challenge." His hand wraps around mine as he pulls up the metal stool. Looking into his eyes I see the first stage of tears. I lift my arm and touch his face.

"I wouldn't want anyone to replace you. Besides, I'm still waiting for that yes."

Between my sniffles I choke out a laugh. "You'll never get a 'yes' from me, Nicky."

"We'll never find out if you leave." He stands up. "I'll go get the rest."

Quickly I wipe my own tears. I've always hated crying. Considered it a sign of weakness.

"I can send them away. You look tired..."

"Gris, I'm fine. Well, I will be." Finally I take in his appearance. His navy blue polo shirt is half un-tucked and nothing but wrinkles. His face looks pale and his eyes, tired. "Did you get any sleep?"

"A little here and there."

"You didn't have to stay."

"I wanted to." My muscles tighten as his words register in my mind. I scan his eyes for something, what I'm not sure. Maybe a sign of hope. But I'm pulled away by Catherine's soft voice.

"Welcome back. You scared us."

I flash a toothy grin at my friends. Warrick is standing directly behind Catherine. Barely space for a piece of paper. Nick's hands are crossed over his chest and Greg is standing next to him. "Greggo, how'd you manage to break free from the lab?"

A smile creeps on his face and I watch him relax. "Chloroform. Ecklie didn't even see it coming."

I laugh, along with the people I consider family. The laughter continues. I move my shoulder slightly and regret the action as a bolt of pain goes through my arm. I know my action is noticed and I try to recover. "It's okay."

"It's not okay Sara, you're bleeding. I'm getting Doctor Kildare."

"Catherine, I'm fine!" It's pointless to argue with Catherine. Looking at the others, I move my arm. "See no pain."

"Ms. Sidle." I turn my gaze to the older man that has just entered my room. His hair is silver and he has a kind look on his face. He moves my gown off my shoulder. Wincing again as he lifts it up and reveals the gauze around my shoulder. Moving the tape, my stitches come into plain view. "You tore a stitch open. Nothing too serious. But it's good your friend found me, wouldn't want this to get infected."

"When can I leave?"

"I was going to allow you to be released today, but you need to promise me to take it easy. No working for at least another week. Try not to use your right arm too much. I'll send the nurse in with the forms, if you promise me no work."

"She won't be coming in doctor. I can promise you that."

I scowl at Grissom. He gives me his look. The one that states 'don't-bother-to-argue-or-I-will-pull-rank.'

"Excellent! Janice will be in soon then."

I sit patiently in Grissom's midnight blue Tahoe. He tried to get me to stay at his place, but I won't agree. The last thing I want is to have Grissom hovering around me. Not now. I surprised myself with my reaction, I've always wanted Grissom to want to take care of me. And now that he wants to I'm scared. Scared that he'll find out my secret and hate me for it. Hate me for not being strong enough. I shake my head. I know it's wrong, but sometimes I just need to release it. He can't understand, he never lets cases affect him. It's always just a case.

"We're here."

I look up and nod. "Thanks for the ride." I open my door and feel his warm hand on my elbow. I turn. "What?"

"I'm coming in." He catches the flash of anger in my eyes. "Just for a bit. Make sure you have everything you need."

"Whatever." I pull my arm back and slide out of the car. I've never realized how massive this vehicle is until after I've been shot and I'm trying to get out with one hand. Finally, my feet hit the pavement and I smile weakly. I reach into my pocket and stop as I hear a familiar jingling sound. Looking up, I see Grissom shaking them in front of me.

"I grabbed them before we left the hospital."

"Oh... okay." I listen as he follows me up the stairs. I can't remember ever having Gil in my home. The rest of the team has come over on occasion, late night movies, dinners, breakfasts; but Gil... never. It seems weird to have him follow me up, like I'm in a dream. Living a dream I've had so many times. Unfortunately, these aren't the circumstances that I was hoping for. I put my key in the lock and twist, causing the door to open up. "C'mon in." I watch his face, looking for a sign of more than just wanting to do his boss duties. I want a sign that he is concerned and that he wants to take care of me. "Can I get you anything?"

"I'll make something. Why don't you go get cleaned up."

I look down at myself and shake my head. I forgot that I'm still wearing the clothes that I had on when I was brought to the hospital. They're stained with blood and I realize how bad the dried blood feels on my skin. "I'll be back." I turn to leave, but stop just before my door. "Cups are in the cabinets above the dishwasher. Coffee is in..." I don't continue as I see him reach for the glass container with the specialty coffee in it. "Right." I smile and close my door. Resting my head against the door, I let out a deep sigh.

The loosefitting sweat pants and over-sized t-shirt feel wonderful over my skin. I pull my hair into a loose ponytail and open the door. I smile again as I watch him examine my reading collection. "Find anything interesting?"

"Yeah, these physics magazine."

He straightens up before looking at me. "Quite a collection."

"I need something to occupy myself with when I'm at home. It's amazing how far science has come in the last 20 years. It's night to day." I watch him nod. I've always enjoyed these types of talk with him. It's where we both can just 'be' and not worry about all the aspects that come into dealing with personal issues. "What'd you make? Smells good."

"Tea." I make a face as he speaks the words. "Sara, coffee is not healthy after you've just come out of the hospital."

"I'm fine Gil." My face softens as I listen to him being worried about my well-being.

"I shouldn't have let you wander the house solo. I should've been there. We lost Holly because of not following protocol."

"It wasn't like you left me, Grissom. You were just downstairs. It could easily have been you. I'm fine." I look at his face and try to get him to feel less guilty about the situation.

"Why don't you sit down. You've been through enough today."

I follow his instructions and sit in the corner of the sofa, waiting for him to sit down. My stomach tightens as he sits next to me.

"We need to talk."

"About what?"

"The doctor didn't want to mention it while everyone was there. But Sara, he asked me if your attacker had a knife. Did he?"

"No."

"That's what I thought. He wanted to know if you had been attacked recently on another crime scene."

I swallow hard and realize where he's going with this.

"How did you get cut Sara?" I feel his hand on my arm and flinch backwards further into the sofa. "He said it was fresh, done in that last 5 hours. You weren't at work, did someone attack you? Sara?"

Looking into his blue eyes, I know I can't lie to him. "No I wasn't attacked."

"Want to explain what happened?"

I look around the room, searching for an escape. This is what it must feel like to be a suspect while being interviewed. Hoping someone will open the door to save you. Hoping that the phone ring and he'll get distracted and quit asking questions. But none of that happens and I'm left, huddled in the corner, looking at him. His eyes change and I see there's sympathy. Sympathy! I hate sympathy! It's a sick disease that people think makes another person feel better. It doesn't, it's a myth. "I don't know what you're talking about Grissom." Feeling a small sense of control as he cringes when I say his name with disdain and anger.

"What about the scars?

"Drop it."

"I didn't want to acknowledge it before. I suspected it a couple of weeks ago. Constantly wearing the long-sleeved shirts and flinching when someone touched your arm. I was afraid to ask what was going on, Sara. I know how private you are, but I need you to talk to me. Talk to someone at least."

My defenses go up so fast I don't even realize what I've done. Instantly, my back stiffens and I clench my jaw. I remember his words with the Kaye Shelton case. Empathy. I snap my head up and look at him. The words just begin to form and spew out before I can censor them. "You don't care, Grissom. You never have. Because what you feel is empathy. Empathy for me and whatever you _think_ I'm going through. It'll go away in time. Everything does." I see the pain on his face and I continue, knowing that if I stop, I'll crash and burn with no-one to save me. I want to believe that Grissom would save me, but I can't trust that. I can't trust that he'll show some sort of feeling towards me. Not when I'm risking myself. "Isn't that what you said to me about Kaye Shelton? That what I felt was nothing but empathy and that it would go away. Well, take your own advice Grissom." I stand up and walk over to the kitchen, praying that he will leave me alone.

I listen carefully as he stands up. He's so quiet. If I wasn't paying such close attention, I wouldn't have heard the door quietly shut. Letting out a heavy breath, I allow my shoulders to shake rapidly. Tears rack my body. I brace the counter for support. How can there be so much pain in this world? I take the first object I come in contact with and throw it across the room. I let a scream out wanting someone to rescue me, but I just pushed out the someone who wanted to help.

Slumping to the ground, I continue to cry. I don't hear him coming back in, but soon, I feel his hand nervously touching my shoulder. I look up into his blue eyes and the tears fall faster. His arms wrap around me and the contact brings a sense of warmth. I gently lift my arms, and snake them around his neck pulling him closer. Crying into his neck I feel his large hands slowly and roughly rub my back. "I'm... I'm... so... sorry..." Not hearing words, I feel a gentle nod from his head; I pull him closer, searching for a saving grace.

I don't know how long we've been sitting here, curled up by my island, me crying out the pain that is holding me hostage. I feel him move slightly and I gently pull away. I don't know how to react towards him. Grissom has never shown me any physical affection before. This is the first time, and it scares me. Scares me that if I let him in, he won't be able to react. He's never been good with people, neither of us have, and I know I won't be able to handle a distant reaction. I wiggle away from his embrace and wiggle away from him. "Sorry about that. You don't need to worry about me."

"Sara, what's got you so scared?"

His hand brushes the hair out of my face. I flinch and move farther away. "Grissom, I'm fine. Isn't it okay to be a little scared after you've been shot?" He nods and smiles in my direction and I take a breath.

"Don't lie Sara. I know something more is up and I need you to trust me."

I almost choke on his words. Trust him? Tell him everything and then have him shut me out. He would do that out of fear, out of feeling something more than what any boss does to his team members. I can't live with that rejection. I shake my head. "There is no more than that Gris."

"Then tell me about the markings on your arm." Before I know it, he's touching my arm, the one that's been but, by me. I swallow and look away.

"There's nothing to tell.I was playing with some lab equipment and accidentally hurt myself. It wasn't worth mentioning. I'm really tired. I need to get some sleep." I stand up and smile weakly at him. He follows my lead, grabs his light jacket and walks out the door. This time, I don't start to throw things. I lock the door behind him and crawl onto my couch. If you only knew Grissom... if only I could open myself up to you more.

It's been a week since I was shot. Grissom has called practically every day. The first time he called, I asked him to stop calling me; every time after that I've let the machine take it. He's stopped by my place a couple of times, but I won't let him in. I've pushed him away, blocked him out of my life. But I know I'm going to have to face him when I get to work today. Facing him will be hard. It'll be the worst experience that I'll ever go through. He'll want me to tell him. I want to, that's what keeps getting me. I want him to know, but I'm afraid he won't want me afterwards. I've stayed in Las Vegas for the last couple of years solely to be with him and, if he decides that he doesn't want me after he finds out what monsters are hiding in my closet, I won't be able to stay with him. I'll end up running away and the only place I want to run to is his arms. That sounds so fluffy. I shake my head.

Catherine is suppose to pick me up for shift today. She said something about Grissom not wanting me to drive alone. I move towards the door when I hear a loud knock . I unbolt the lock and see a pair of blue-steel eyes smiling at me. "Grissom..." I try to regain control. "What... are you doing here?" I look past him in hopes of finding Catherine; she isn't in sight though. "I thought Catherine was coming to pick me up?"

"I told her I would pick you up. I hope you don't mind." I move as he steps inside my place. "I've been doing some reading on self-mutilation. 'Self-injury is done often because they feel trapped or lost in their emotions. A cutter does it for a variety of reasons. In your age group, it's often because of a violent home, neglect, isolation, self-degrading thinking, or abuse'."

As he speaks, each new word slaps me harder than the last.

"I went through the list and tried to figure out what the main reason was for those." He points to my arm and I follow his gaze and quickly cover my scars. "You've always had a strong opinion of yourself Sara; for as long as I've known you, I don't believe you've ever been hard on yourself. You've never shared much about your family, other then your parents were stuck in the Woodstock years and never paid much attention to your needs. That takes out a violent home. But does bring in neglect, from your parents. Isolation was one reason that I was looking at. Maybe in high school, but your behavior only changed recently, indicating that feeling isolated isn't a reason. Along with the fact that you are surrounded by people that share the same passion as you. That left me with abuse."

I shake noticeably as he mentions the latter.

"You become connected to cases that deal with abuse. I've never thought much of it. We all have our quirks and cases that we become attached to. Catherine with children cases, Nick and assault cases. Sara, how long were you abused?"

His question lingers in the air for a moment. I try to let the words come out, but they won't come. Dead silence sits between us. "I was never... never abused Gil." He tilts his head slightly and looks at me intently. "Sometimes you don't need a reason for hating and sometime you do. I've seen it. When I was younger, my best friend was abused by her stepfather. I know the reasons why abusers do what they do. They're a waste of flesh and don't deserve to be among the living." I don't even realize I'm crying until his hand wipes the tears off my cheek.

"Why do you do it?"

"'An inability to express emotions, an inability to cope, and to regain control. It brings gravity back and gives me a sense of power. I can control the pain and hurt when I do it. I haven't had to deal with a case like Kaye Shelton's in such a long time." I look up and catch his eye. "It's a release for me, it makes the pain come out, but only when I bring it on myself. Other than that it just stays locked up."

"You never talked to anyone about it. Why?"

"How'd you know?"

"I looked in your record."

I shake my head. I can't believe he did that. "Who would hire someone that was a cutter?" I watch as he nods his head in understanding. "I'd be labeled as unstable, that's not the case Gil. I need you to believe that."

"I wouldn't have hired you if I thought you weren't stable, Sara."

A smile on my lips. "Thanks."

"But you need help Sara, you can't keep living like this. When I was doing this research. they said that it's not about what will stop it, but why they're doing it. It won't be easy, but I'll be with you every step."

I look at his eyes and am surprised not to see some sort of reserve about him. It's passion, pain, and some would say, love. But I know. that with Gil, it wouldn't be love. "Why?"

"Because..." He stops and, by observing his movements I know he's having a hard time finding the words. "I care. I don't want to lose you, even if I don't have you." I close my eyes as he speaks. I've dreamt of him saying this for so long. I open my eyes and look at him.

"But you do have me, you always have." He pulls me into a close embrace and I instinctively wrap my arms around his neck. I rest my head on his shoulder and take in his scent.

I sit next to him on his couch. He opens 'Understanding Self-Injury: A Workbook' and begins to read the introduction. After that day, we went and found books on cutters, along with any other information we could find. Today is our first session together. We'll do this once and I'll meet with a counselor every week. Having Gil know has instantly brought an accountability partner into my life. He's constantly looking out for me and getting me to talk about what's going on.

I smile as he wraps his arm around me and continues to read. I snuggle in closer while we start on the first chapter.

A/N: If any of you are struggling with being a cutter please seek help. All of the information for this fan fic was taken from this web site. http/ It has a links and people to contact if you are suffering from being a cutter. If you need to talk please feel free to contact me.

_**Never give up... Never give in; but - making mistakes - is never a sin. - Joey**_


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